


Date Night

by DMichelleWrites



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Original Character(s), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8311216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMichelleWrites/pseuds/DMichelleWrites
Summary: It's been three weeks since the Queens have had a normal date night. Will they get their chance?





	1. Date Night Interuptus

(Originally via 404 "Beyond Redemption")

Three weeks, three long weeks. That's how much time has passed since the Queens have had a normal date night. Three is their magic number. They've previously had three occasions to celebrate their long road to marriage. They have three cars, three houses, and three kids. Felicity's expecting Baby number three in just four short months. The charity gala for the Star City free clinic doesn't count last Friday, and Queen Incorporated's grand opening party for the company's tech subsidiary, Q-Core, the week before doesn't factor in from the week before either. Those events are all work related. And if they aren't busy with that Oliver and Felicity are busy with their night jobs as Green Arrow and Overwatch, protecting the city from Tobias Church's uprising of his so-called "super gang". He's rallied various crime syndicates from Star City, Hub City, Up City, Central City, Go City, and National City. Currently, things have been quiet, almost too quiet for Oliver's liking. It's partly why he went to the bunker. Because of that idea, Felicity decides to give him a piece of her mind.

The elevator doors slide open to reveal Felicity in her wheelchair. Pregnancy usually causes her biostimulant chip to dislodge, but since she was already pregnant with Tommy, Oliver and Felicity had expected this news. And they have already planned accordingly. It took awhile to readjust, but that doesn't mean Felicity is going to stop living. No, she is going to keep moving forward, and that's exactly her plan when she heads into the lair.

"Oliver," she huffs out angrily, pushing her chair with vigor. Suddenly, Felicity pauses at the sight before her- Oliver, really sweaty, shirtless, and delicious. Her anger quickly dissipates, sighing, "Oh, I am _so glad_ I stopped by here right now."

Felicity's head bobs slightly, following his every move. Three thrusts of his hips follow as he subsequently uses his core strength to maintain his typical workout regimen. Strangely, Oliver doesn't notice his wife's presence at the moment even with his ninja-like skills. That is until she bites back a subtle moan. Felicity's ears perk up to three final clangs, and Oliver's black sneakers hit the floor with a soft thud. He can feel her eyes lingering on her when he isn't looking. Instead, Oliver scoops up his pea green t-shirt. God, he looks so damn good. His body is forged in scars, but in Felicity's eyes that only shows her strength. They also add to his sex appeal. His muscles are almost that of a Greek deity. His skin burns in a slight pink flush- one she usually only sees during all of their night time activity, so to speak. And did she mention that she likes it when he's really sweaty because she does?

"You alright?" Her husband questions with a hint of amusement, nearly breaking her out of her not so quiet thought she's kept to herself.

Felicity hums, eyes mapping out his bare torso, even though she's seen it and so much more multiple times, "Hmm..?"

"You alright?" He repeats, slipping back into his pea green t-shirt. For a moment, Felicity debates whether or not she would've preferred him shirtless or not. However, seeing as how a very important marital discussion is needed she thinks the latter would be best for once. "Felicity, Honey. Talk to me. What is it? Is something bothering you? Is it the boys, or the baby?"

"No, they're all fine. I promise." His wife answers, caressing the swell of her belly gently, "This is about us."

His face crumples in confusion, "What about us?"

"I need you."

"You have me. You, the kids, the city, you all have me, Felicity."

"Yeah, well lately it feels like the public and the kids have seen you more than me. So then let me correct myself, I need us to be just _us_."

Okay, still color him perplexed.

"Honey," He urges, squatting down to her level. "I'm really not understanding what you're saying. Neither of us have gone anywhere. We've just been busy..."

Felicity finishes, pointing out, "with work, the kids, playing superheroes. But the thing is Oliver, Church has gone into hiding, and until we find him, we have to live our lives."

"What are you talking about?" Oliver huffs out a chuckle. "I didn't know we put that on pause."

"Mayor Handsome and the Green Arrow haven't, and neither has Queen Incorporated CEO Felicity Queen and Overwatch, or mom and dad. But I miss us. I miss Oliver and Felicity, not having a date night with stodgy rich people or bad guys trying to blow up the restaurant, or cleaning up a toddler's throw up at Big Belly Burger because he ate too fast. I love what we do. And I love being a parent, but I think we need to make time for Oliver and Felicity Queen too. Remember them? They're married."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way, so what do you suggest we do to fix this, Mrs. Queen?" Oliver wonders, sitting right at the lower edge of her workstation.

The front of her chocolate brown boots hit his denim clad calves and she rolls right up to him, "A date night, a normal date night, a date in even just you and me because I miss us. I miss moments where we get to spend just the two of us."

"Hmm. So how 'bout tomorrow night after the kids go to bed we snuggle under a blanket?"

"Uh-huh." Felicity agrees, nodding her head as if she's urging her husband to keep going.

"We can eat vanilla and mint chocolate chip ice cream."

"I love it so far. Tell me more."

"And a _House of Cards_ mini-marathon on Netflix," he suggests finally.

A smile curls on her lucious red stained lips, noting, "It's almost perfect."

"Almost?" What could he have possibly forgotten?

Pulling his collar,  Felicity's whisper is husky and low in his ear, "Like I said, I miss us."

Her words aren't to be misconstrued, and realization dons on Oliver. It's also been three weeks since they've had sex. Sure, medically speaking, paralysis can sometimes lower people's sex drives, but that doesn't mean it's all dust and cobwebs down there. Plus, pregnancy hormones only amp the desire for something more, something physical. Felicity misses the way he touched her, the way he's explored her body, his kisses, his lips everywhere against her bare skin, and his love surrounding her completely. He knows her body like no other, and despite her current state, he still makes her feel amazing. Orgasms are different, if they are there at all. But their pure love and emotional connection still remains strong. She craves that intimacy with her husband again, and she needs it soon.

"How soon?"

Frack, there goes her brain to mouth filter.

"I-I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"Honey, trust me, by now I know. I know you, and I want give you whatever you want because I need you too, Felicity. And I want you so much it drives me crazy. But you said you felt tired, so that's why I came down here to work out."

She doesn't feel the delicious bite of his calloused hands under her thighs as he scoops her up into his arms, but she's certainly aware of his heartbeat thundering against hers. Their lips meet in a frenzy of ardent, languid kisses for the first time that night. He places her on their large round conference table gently. His mouth travels over to her chin, cheek, and the side of her neck until he reaches Felicity's favorite spot - her pulse point.

"John...John..." She warns in a desperate sigh.

Oliver ceases on that note, pulling away from his wife.

"Felicity, can you please not call out my best friend's name while I'm kissing you?"

"John's gonna be really mad at us." She reminds as her hands splay over his lower back, reaching for the hem of his shirt.

He points out, "Well, John's not here right now."

Speak of the devil! "Green Arrow, Overwatch, the recruits and I could use some back up."

Damn it.

Date night is put on pause, but soon. Oh soon, Oliver and Felicity will just get to be Oliver and Felicity on a normal date night again. Right?


	2. Just the Two of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity manage to Netflix and chill during a date in, but is it free of interruptions?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy _Arrow_ Wednesday. Please note the ratings change because date night won't end at just ice cream and Netflix. I also used some dialogue from an old chapter in my _Hiatus Drabbles_ series because I felt like it fit here too.

( _GIF credit goes to Lindsay[yet_i_remain_quiet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/yet_i_remain_quiet) again from 411 "A.W.O.L"_ )

Oliver's muscular body fills the doorway, lazily gripping the frame. He watches as Felicity applies a subtle touch of red lipstick. His smile is toothy and broad. When his wife is finished, he scoops up her bridal style into his arms.

"You look happy," Felicity notes, feeling okay until he doesn't place her in the chairlift like usual. "Oh, no. No. No. Honey, this is why we got the chair lift."

He counters, pointing out, "We got you a chair lift in case you need to go up and down the stairs when I'm not here."

"But..." she begins to protests, holding on tightly to his shoulders as Oliver descends down the first step.

"But you know the beeping sound from your chair will wake up the kids. Will just fell asleep." Oliver replies, looking at his wife as her eyes drape shut anxiously. "Besides it's our date night in. No kids allowed."

All she can think of right now as her husband's footsteps cause the stairs to creak ever so slightly is, "Be careful, slow down, slow down, careful, careful, careful, _careful_."

When has Oliver ever dropped Felicity?

"Oh, do you want me to be careful?" Oliver teases lovingly as he reaches the final step, looking right at Felicity.

Felicity breathes, seeing nothing but darkness behind her eyes. "Oh, this is more Oliver 2.0 isn't it? You think being cute is going to distract me?"

"Mission accomplished," Dimples prod her husband's cheeks as he places her gently in her wheelchair. Oliver heads to the kitchen for some bowls, spoons, and ice cream.

Felicity buckles her belt, sighing, "Ugh, you don't have to wait on me hand and foot."

"Oh, yes I do. You're carrying precious cargo." He reminds, squatting down to her level before he peppers the swell of her growing belly with kisses, "What about you, Princess? Are you asleep like your big brothers?"

His prickly stubble tickles against her bare skin. In between a fit of giggles, she pleads, "Oliver...Oliver, stop it! Before I have to romantically have to ask you to change the bag and tubes on my catheter again. Please."

As if in response, he feels what could possibly be kicks or hand movements by his lips. He murmurs against her skin, "Well, as long as she's the only kid awake tonight. That's fine with me."

"Sorry," Her husband apologizes, though the permagrin on his face says otherwise. Clearing his throat, he cups her face. "But you know that I don't mind. It's normal."

"I'm not normal. Not now, anyway."

"Normal is relative, but you're right. You're not normal. You're remarkable, Felicity."

She denies bitterly, "I feel like Shamu. My butt's glued to this chair for a while."

"You, Felicity Megan Queen, are a beautifully sexy pregnant woman." Her husband compliments, hands skimming up and down over her arms. "Tonight, your butt will be glued to my lap. How does that sound?"

With an eye roll, she responds, "Like you're trying too hard. Because changing catheters shouldn't be in the husband job description."

"Um, actually it kind of is." He reminds her, reciting a bit "In sickness and in health, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, it's all in the vows."

"Yeah, but we never went with traditional vows, Hon." Felicity counters, sighing. "We wrote our own."

"Well, you know the same sentiments are implied."

"Well, you know the same sentiments are implied." She mimics in a deep voice.

Chuckling, one of his eyebrows quirks. "Oh, is that supposed to be me?"

"Yes." Felicity answers adamantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I mean, I didn't expect for you to be doing stuff like this 'til we were both in our eighties."

"So we're a little ahead of the game plan. That's fine."

"Oliver, that's beside the point. I'm so..."

"Please stop apologizing to me. You have nothing to feel sorry about. Like I said, for now, this is our normal, Felicity. And if you still don't believe me when I _tell_ you." His voice drops to a low whisper laden with desire. His breath grazes her ear, "You'll believe me when I show you later tonight."

"Huh? That sounds promising." She chimes, egging him on purposefully, "I guess."

"You guess?"

Wheeling her chair towards the couch, his wife points out, "It's been three weeks. Who knows? Maybe you've lost your touch?"

"Ha!" Oliver says with an air of confidence, bringing over two respective bowls of vanilla and mint chocolate chip ice cream. "I'm gonna enjoy proving you wrong."

"Me too," She shrugs, "I hope."

He situates his wife on their brown leather couch, feigning offense in a mutter, "You hope? Here's you ice cream. Have you got _House of Cards_ queued up on the TV?"

"Of course. Hey?"

"Yeah, Baby."

Ooh, there are only a select few times Oliver calls Felicity, Baby. Thankfully, they aren't in any life-threatening danger with a super bad who can move things with his mind. He knows what that does to her.

Felicity utters in a heartfelt whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too." Oliver responds in a hushed tone, chasing her lips with a quick, yet ardent kiss.

Felicity snuggles up on his lap under a cozy gray blanket. The crackle of the fire in their fireplace is nearly drowned out by the excitement of their favorite Netflix political drama. They cutely spoon feed each other bites of their sweet ice cream. Funnily enough, when Oliver indulges he's more of a savory kind of guy, or if it happens to be sweet, the dessert of choice is usually something more rich and decadent like a souffle or a tiramisu. However, who would ever say no to ice cream? Well, considering one doesn't have dairy allergies, or lactose intolerance. It's cold, creamy, smooth, and umptious. Besides there is no one else besides Felicity, the kids, and Thea who he'd rather eat any meal with, no matter where they are. Unfortunately, happy times are often far and few between, especially in a place like Star City. But hey? At least they have each other. A half hour later, Oliver and Felicity's taste buds delight one last heaping spoonful of ice cream. Their messy spoons hit their lavender bowls with two loud resounding clinks.

"You know, _House of Cards_ and _Scandal_ are examples what not to do in a political office, Mr. Mayor?"

Her husband concurs, huffing out another laugh, "Obviously."

God, Felicity loves seeing Oliver this deliriously happy, and she also loves that she and the kids contribute to that feeling.

"What? What?" Felicity mentions, knowing the truth full well, "Do I have something on my face? Do I have a little something right around here?"

Her index finger circles over her mouth, which is smeared with a misshapen ring of vanilla and mint chip ice cream.

"Uh... Huh." His answer is broken up by peals of laughter. His uneven breaths jostle her back somewhat, but she doesn't mind at all, "Do you want some help with that, miss independent woman, or you wanna do it by yourself?

She thinks, pressing a pinky to her chin much like their son. Hm... Help, please!"

"You're so cute, Babe." He boops her nose, fetching a napkin. "You sound just like Tommy."

That's the plan. She understands by now that her husband just couldn't resist adorable moments like these, and when it's just the two of them, Oliver always has a way of spicing things up. He wipes Felicity's mouth clean for the most part.

"All gone? Am I good?" His wife wonders, staring right into his azure eyes for a brief moment

Geez, have they always been that blue?

"Almost." Oliver observes, instructing. "Lick your lips."

She does so, and it reminds of him of other areas he hasn't been able to lick in awhile.

"Okay. How 'bout now?"

"Nope. I missed a tiny spot right there."

"Mm," Her moan vibrates in his mouth when he sneakily droops his head down for a kiss, " _Mm_."

Their eyes fall shut. His strong arms delicately ensnare the nether region between her boobs, which are a little more voluptuous and her belly, which is currently housing a daughter whom Oliver hopes will be more like her mother. She pulls away for a second to remove her glasses, and Oliver knows when the glasses come off, the night is going to become so much hotter. Her arms loop around his neck, craning her neck up to reunite with his lips once more. Oliver enjoys the feel of the cool metal from his wife's rings, which are ever so gently pressed against his increasingly hot skin. Their kisses change in tenor and tone. They grow more frequent, more passionate, and more desperate. Their mouths never seem to disconnect as if they're breathing in the same air. Felicity manages to slip her tongue past his lips as one of Oliver's hands slides up to her breast, cupping it softly.

Just as their ministrations are about to get even more heated, they hear a frightened whimper of "Daddy!"

"What's the matter, Bubba?" His father calls up.

"Spider!" The toddler warns in a haste. "Get it, Daddy! Get it!"

Grumbling somewhat inaudibly, Felicity thinks she's hears her husband saying that their two year old got arachnophobia among other fears from her.

"Go." Felicity commands simply, directing him to the stairs. "I don't want something as dangerous as a poisonous spider hurting our sweet baby boy, and hurry back."

Trudging upstairs, he abides, "Yes, dear. He gets this from you."

His wife chimes, "Heard that, Honey."

"I'll be right back." Oliver requests, "Don't get started without me."

Ten minutes later, Oliver returns to the living room.

"Is the spider taken care of?" His wife questions, pulling back the blanket.

He hums affirmatively, "Mmhm."

"And Tommy's back to sleep?"

"After another story and a back rub, fish, butterflies, and racecars are swirling around in his head."

"Good," Felicity tells him, patting his spot on the couch, "Now we get this show on the road."

"Get this show on the road? So romantic, aren't you, Mrs. Queen?"

"You know what I mean, Oliver. Just kiss me."

A sudden spurt of desire drives his playfulness, "Where?"

Felicity whispers, matching his tone, "Oh? Everywhere, anywhere. Dealer's choice."

He strides over to her, and much to his wife's surprise they don't assume their original positions. Instead, Oliver sits down on his haunches, pulling Felicity into his lap. Judging the tent forming in his painfully tight blue jeans, her hand trails down her husband's clothed chest, heading straight for his zipper of his jeans. He shakes his head in protest as a smile tilts on his lips, guiding her hand back up to his shoulder. Her eyes flutter shut as their noses nuzzle against each other. For a short moment, it's like time has stopped. Oliver's eyes soak in the sight right in front of him, the joy in her blue eyes that's mingled with lust for him and only him. The smile on her mouth just makes him feel so relaxed, and the glow of expectant motherhood only adds to her beauty. The glow of firelight accentuates her naturally gorgeous features her hair, which is becoming more of a reddish brown as the dye fades from five months ago, her skin, and just her everything. But she wants more, and he can feel it now as her nails dig into his broad shoulders.

"You look perfect." Oliver professes, kissing the tip of her nose at first, "so gorgeous."

He plants subsequent pecks around her mouth, right on her smeary red stained lips, above the apple of her cheek, and finally down her neck. His calloused hands sneak under her oatmeal colored sweater, splaying over the band of her injuries. He sucks ardently on a favorite spot of her neck, and the touch of his hands contrast his mouth. Her breasts press just above his clothed pecs. He knows how extremely sensitive certain parts of her body are, despite her paralysis. The first time they had sex post-diagnosis, orgasms weren't there at all. Sure who doesn't love mind-blowing orgasms from their hunky husband? But it was never about that for Felicity. Cheesy, but true. Sex is more about being together completely and enjoying the make love to each other when it's nothing but the two of them. And it slowly got better over time. Sex is still pleasurable physically, though just in different ways, and the more they try, the more vocal Felicity gets. It's more like an all over body experience that she couldn't quite describe to Oliver when he asked one night. Their love, their emotional intimacy, and their connection are more than simply intact, they're all so much better than before.

She shudders as Oliver yanks off her sweater, and suddenly, her ears perk up to, "Felicity?!"

"William? Why are you still awake? It's a quarter to eleven, and even growing teenagers need their sleep."

"Can you check my bio project?"

His father pipes up, trying to hide the annoyance in his voice. "When is it due, son?"

"Tuesday."

"Well, then. I'll look over it tomorrow, Buddy. Get some rest." His stepmother promises.

Mere minutes later, William's snores could practically suck in his blue curtains.

Her husband prompts, "Now where were we?"

"Thank God, Will takes after Samantha in the academic department." Felicity thinks, jabbing his shoulder. "Otherwise..."

"Baby, not now." He interrupts, adopting an exaggerated mopey face, "Please for me."

"Okay."

Before they even resume kissing, Oliver whips off his jacket and t-shirt faster than he ever did during their first night together in Nanda Parbat, Felicity sucks in a sharp breath the minute Oliver's scarred bare torso collides against hers. Suddenly, she feels weightless. Thank God she didn't forget to braless tonight because it only adds to the much needed sensations between them. He carries her over to the downstairs guest bedroom, so they don't wake up the boys again. At least, they both pray to God that they don't. Their favorite show and dirty dishes are left by the wayside as the crisp white door creaks open.

Pulling away, Oliver announces. "I have something to show you."

"Oh my God!" Felicity gasps in delight, "How? Wh-When did you do all this? It's amazing."

The guest bedroom resembles their master bedroom in a Balinese villa they rented while there. It is their favorite destination spot so much so they even went there again on their honeymoon. Tea candles flicker on the dark wood bookshelves. There's now a a white curtain for their canopy bed that they never got around to fixing until now. It even smells like paradise, the sea, and the fresh fruit mingle together in a wonderful combination. Yellow and white plumerias in light gray vases sit atop the nightstands. It's absolutely perfect.

"I worked on it this afternoon while you and the kids were at the park. Do you like it?"

"I love it."

Her smooth palms cup his cheeks, loving the way his stubble is rough against her supple skin. Her mouth lingers on his in gratitude for putting such hard work in for an indoor date night.

"Felicity?"

Oliver utters her name so gently, asking for two things. If she's ready and if she's ready right now. Lord, he hopes she is. Felicity nods, silently giving him the go ahead. He pulls the covers back and plops her down on the cold sheets. Her natural reddish brown locks are fanned against the pillows. Her body is so delicately curvy, but he needs to see more of her, all of her actually. She can no longer sense the way his hands carefully pull down her navy blue sweatpants along with her simple black cotton panties, so she's learned to keep her eyes on him. His blue eyes are mitigated, and his gaze is shadowed with a raw need for her.

"Oliver," His wife requests, pitching rising slightly with a hint of frustration, "C'mere."

At her sudden insistence, his body blankets her, careful not to put pressure on the bump. His hands cushion her scarred back, committing every incision and bullet wound to memory. His light caresses are met with telltale whimpers that she fights to bite back. For both of them, their scars have become somewhat erogenous, and they know just how to get a rise out of one another. His pillowy, wet lips trail down the column of her neck, His teeth nip at the sensitive skin at the top of her breasts, soothing it with a kiss before his lips surround the nipple. Suddenly, his other hand snakes in between their bodies, palming her neglected breast in a tantalizingly slow motion. His hand and mouth squeeze at such a perfect simultaneous pressure. Her nails scrape his scalp, and unbidden moans escape her mouth as he continues pleasuring her. When his eyes flicker up to hers, he pulls away. Felicity groans in protest, smacking his shoulder out of annoyance.

"Ow!" He plays along, "So much for 'you can't prove me wrong, Oliver.'"

Felicity reminds, whispering. Her voice is so wanton. "I miss us, and I need you right now."

Despite her sentiment, Oliver retreats back to mere kisses down her body except he travels down even further. His lips settle on her pubic bone before his hand rubs against her clit. It's not the same and they both know that. When he touches her like this, she feels an inkling of something. It's nothing like it was before. Now it's more of a super thin dull pressure, but to her, it's everything. Sex with an SCI means Oliver sometimes has to fill in the blanks with her. They talk to each other more when they make love, and it can nearly bring her over the edge. He'd whisper memories of the numerous times they made love in their home, their honeymoon, and when they conceived Tommy.

"I need you, Felicity. Do you remember how it feels when I touch you just like this? How you use to writhe against my hand? How hot your skin felt? How wet you got?" Oliver reminds, pressing his palm harder against her, not to hurt, just in the hopes that she would remember enough to feel some sort of physical pleasure. "I love the sounds you make right before you came. You're so fucking sexy, Baby. I need you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don't stop. Don't stop." She urges frantically, eyes screwing shut. Heat rises in her body, and that's when she can tell, "Oliver, are you..? Tell me."

"I'm inside of you, Felicity." Oliver manages to slip two fingers inside of her sex, "You feel so hot, so tight. God, you're amazing."

Her eyes fly open, and she doesn't fixate on his hand as he pumps two fingers in and out of slowly and purposefully. Felicity's more focused on Oliver's reaction to her, the way his eyes are widened with a combination of awe and desire to bring her the same pleasure she does to him. It's in the way, she watches Oliver tenderly kiss her thigh, even though she can't share in that sensation. Her heart warms at the sweet gesture. Eventually, a blush creeps on her chest, and she feels a subtle warmth. She gets slightly wet, but even when Oliver enters her, they know from past experience that she may have some discomfort. He crawls back up the bed and smooches her quickly. He reaches into his nightstand for a bottle of lube.

"Now what?" In answer to her question, Felicity expects Oliver to apply the lubricant on her, and she would do the same to him once he strips down. But this time that's not what he does. No, instead he scoops her up off the bed. She giggles, "Oliver, Oliver. Honey, what are you doing?"

He smirks, sitting her down a navy blue loveseat. Oliver drops to his knees after he removes his blue jeans and gray boxers. Her breath hitches in anticipation, although Oliver inhales the scent of her skin.

His words are muffled against her belly, "Please stay asleep, Baby girl because Mommy and I are about to do something very naughty."

"Hmm." She corrects, raising an eyebrow, "Like the other activities weren't naughty?"

He chuckles, playfully pinching her shoulder, "Do you always have to be right?"

"Yes."

She shivers at the cold night air, slipping through the cracks of the patio door. Oliver wraps his arms around Felicity, running his hands over her goosebumps. He shifts Felicity in his lap and right before he sets her down her on the perfect spot, he warms some lubricant in his hands applying it in the right places. Her eyes map out his torso, so connected, so close, so scarred, yet so loved. Her hand traces the ridges of his scars until she stops. Felicity grabs the base of his cock, pumping slowly as her focus is targeted on his reactions. At the intake of a desperately sharp breath, she takes the a dollop of lubricant from him, coating his member in it. Her body is draped in a warmth when he enters her in a slow, yet hard thrust. It's clearly evident by the way she bounces slightly in his lap. His hands hold her hips aloft. Oliver sets a gentle, slow rhythm at first, understanding how much she likes it on top. After a few thrusts, his movements transform into something more staccato. His mouth attaches itself to her neck again, biting down gently as his release is near. Over time, Felicity picks up on the telltale signs before Oliver reaches his end. It's in the way he nips at her, the change in his pace, his shaky breaths teasing her bare skin.

"Fuck, Felicity. I can't... I can't..."

Nibbling his earlobe, she whispers in a lust-filled haze, "I love you so, so much."

With that mention, he breaks. His gritted teeth let out a low growl as pleasure wracks his body. No, it's the not the same for her. Warmth rushes through her entire body, making her cry in a muted gasp by his neck. Physically, it doesn't feel the same, and it never will. In her mind though, as she fills in the blanks just by the ever present heat spreading all around her body, and Oliver's reaction alone. It makes her feel amazing.

He pants, waiting until his breathing slows. Then, he ensconces in arms, wrapping her up safely. His head nestles right in the crook of her neck. Oliver knows she's not going to like it if he apologizes, although he feels like he should because she didn't meet the same physical peak. However, he also knows she felt something, an inkling of pleasure. But more importantly, she felt his love for her in every gentle kiss, lick, nip, suck, and thrust, That's all that really matters.

Oliver kisses her passionately, uttering the most heartfelt, "I love you, Felicity, so, so much."

Her nails rake over his lower back scars, making him purr like a cat. She giggles, feeling tiny feet kick her insides, "I think we woke her."

"As long as it's this baby, I'm not sorry."

"Oliver," She chides playfully.

He mimics, enunciating every single syllable of his wife's name, "Felicity."

"Date night, same time, same place. Next week?" His wife suggests hopefully.

Oliver adds, "Or we can have John and Lyla babysit, and I can take my beautiful girls out to our favorite spot, Corrado's."

Ah, the site of their first date with some scrumptious Italian food.

"It sounds like a good plan, Mr. Queen."

"Well, I've been known to have my moments."

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and Kudos are appreciated.  
> Say hey, and please let me know what you think in the comments.  
> Tumblr: [DMichelleWrites](http://dmichellewrites.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@dmichelleca](https://twitter.com/dmichelleca)


End file.
